Last February, Sara, Sophie and I went on a week grand tour to Venice, Budapest and Prague by car that took us a total mileage of about 2500 from Brussels. For the past three years, it has somehow become a tradition to go down to Italy for the Mardi Gras. With the increasing demand on Venice at this time of the year, it's likely impossible to get accommodations at a short notice within the 50 miles range, unless there are last-minute cancellations. Fortunately, we were able to get a room at the same pension of last year near the train station in Mestre, some 3 miles from Venice. The weather was unusually bright for the carnival festivities on Sunday. We're just too lucky to be able to get seats on a less crowded train and mingled with locals who were dressed in colorful gypsy costumes and Austrian military uniforms to whom I obliged a couple of hand readings or so. What a surprise to see all of those people arriving and waiting for their turns to board the vaporetto (ferry). I could imagine how all those trains must have been diverted to Venice that day and at frequent intervals. It was like a circus! In order not to miss the main attractions or freeze slowly in the cold, we hastily decided to go directly to Piazza San Marco on foot. The array of masks and costumes this year was fantastic and superb. I was so overwhelmed by the state of the art of their presentation and the richness of their colors that made me ran out of superlatives and dried up my throat from gasping. Although I was somewhat embarrassed, I felt intimidated but thrilled to wear a simple woolen poncho and mixed with the participants and beat the biting wintry air at the same time. I even thought of donning an authentic Japanese ceremonial mask as an extra attraction but Sara dissuaded me to do so because it would not only be too fragile to survive the trip but would also look ridiculous on me! Anyway, who'd notice the difference? I'll think of something shocking and original next time. What about an aging scuba diver in a skimpy bikini on a sub-zero temperature? Or a vulgarly dressed trainer in an imitation leopard tight strapped on the back of a stuffed lion? It would surely make Bernstein puke like a Viennese choirboy who stole his first lick on somebody's lollypop. Who cares? This is the only time of the year when one can dare to manifest his innermost fantasies and urges without being obnoxious, n'est-ce pas?
Touring Venice on a slightly overcast afternoon, particularly when the sun begins to set, could make an artist out of an ordinary mortal to admire its beauty and splendor as its golden reflection blends with its landscape and surroundings on the horizon. Although it could have long been a sentiment of déjà-vu, I still couldn't help but be carried away in awe by the mysterious glow of its magical sights and the sounds of laughter of the crowd on that special occasion. The stroll along the narrow alleys and around the canals was a highly enriching cultural experience. The old buildings must have undergone series of renovations, but they still keep their original architectural features throughout the centuries. The turnout this year must have doubled and there was hardly room to move comfortably or take pictures freely. What's even worst was when we reached the main bridge leading to the train station on our way back. Apparently, the crowd could have been at a standstill for a long while because I overheard from somebody in passing that it took him an hour to cross such a short bridge! The only alternative I saw was to swim across the canal if it were humanly possible to get through to the quay without getting hurt or being trampled! It's too scary for the first time to see how the local police force was called in to direct traffic in and out of the narrow alleys. There was certainly no way for safety whatsoever in case a panic breaks out. Finally, I was relieved when the policemen arrived to divert us to a private alley that leads to the train terminals. On the other hand, getting into an overcrowded train could be more chaotic than in a Tokyo subway during rush hours. It could also be a maddening experience unless one enjoys being a masochist of getting the thrill being squeezed or groped by perfect strangers. Or, it could even turn into a nightmare if he ever comes face to face with a grinning and foul-smelling monster that wouldn't hesitate to make a break the minute he has the opportunity! Comparing the pros and the cons of getting the kick out of such a pandemonium, I wonder if it was really worthwhile to travel that far and go through a wild goose chase in order to satisfy an inner urge to make an once-in-a-lifetime dream come true, regardless how crazy it could be!
We left Italy for Hungary early Monday morning under a pouring rain. It was already snowing heavily before we reached the Austrian border. Surprisingly, we found driving in a blizzard very difficult and dangerous. Without any previous experience and the necessary equipment on hand under such a condition, we nearly panicked when our car got stuck on the roadside and nobody cared to stop to bail us out. We tried all the tricks to free the car, but we seemed to be stuck for good. As a last ditch, we cleared with our hands and feet all the snow that had accumulated and put the car carpets under the front tires. What a relief when we finally managed to move the car! But some 20 miles further, however, our car skidded across the icy road. I drove moderately fast inside the tunnel and the car went out of control at the exit that I thought it would roll over. Fortunately, there wasn't much traffic and I succeeded to maneuver and stop it a few inches before it hit the guardrail at the edge of a precipice! I didn't know how much snow had fallen that day but I already thought of going back to Brussels directly if it didn't stop snowing. During the slow drive, I decided to continue because I supposed the road condition everywhere in Central Europe was the same. After all these commotions we made it to the Hungarian border before dark. There wasn't fresh snow on the road, but Budapest was about 200 miles from the border and somehow it was too late to proceed directly. So, we spent the night in a pension in Vesprem. We originally planned to stay in Budapest for a day or two to sightsee and shop around. But with a gray and freezing weather, it wasn't the best time to visit the city. It must have taken us more than an hour to get across the traffic lights on the main thoroughfares. I had to park briefly in front of a bank while Sara and Sophie rushed inside to change money. We searched for pensions in the suburbs, but in vain. I suppose they must have closed shop for the season. Much to our regret, we just had to leave Budapest after circling it for half a day, but planned to come back when the weather would be warmer and brighter.
It was like a homecoming when we got to Prague the next day. We seemed to have gotten lost our way again and went around the city for an hour searching for the pension where we last stayed. After a long tiring drive and continuous bickering on wrong directions, we had to contend ourselves with a two-night accommodation in a university residence where we stayed during our first visit in 1994. As the city transportation is cheap and frequent, we decided to leave the car behind. We were able to get to the places we wanted to see and the souvenirs to buy in one day. There wasn't the usual crowd on the famous Charles Bridge at this time of the year, but there were a considerable number of tourists in the old town. We hope to stay longer next time to be able to see other sights and shop at ease. Visiting three cities and driving across eight European countries in seven days proved to be so exhausting that a week wouldn't suffice to get a complete rest and be back to normal.
Touring Venice on a slightly overcast afternoon, particularly when the sun begins to set, could make an artist out of an ordinary mortal to admire its beauty and splendor as its golden reflection blends with its landscape and surroundings on the horizon. Although it could have long been a sentiment of déjà-vu, I still couldn't help but be carried away in awe by the mysterious glow of its magical sights and the sounds of laughter of the crowd on that special occasion. The stroll along the narrow alleys and around the canals was a highly enriching cultural experience. The old buildings must have undergone series of renovations, but they still keep their original architectural features throughout the centuries. The turnout this year must have doubled and there was hardly room to move comfortably or take pictures freely. What's even worst was when we reached the main bridge leading to the train station on our way back. Apparently, the crowd could have been at a standstill for a long while because I overheard from somebody in passing that it took him an hour to cross such a short bridge! The only alternative I saw was to swim across the canal if it were humanly possible to get through to the quay without getting hurt or being trampled! It's too scary for the first time to see how the local police force was called in to direct traffic in and out of the narrow alleys. There was certainly no way for safety whatsoever in case a panic breaks out. Finally, I was relieved when the policemen arrived to divert us to a private alley that leads to the train terminals. On the other hand, getting into an overcrowded train could be more chaotic than in a Tokyo subway during rush hours. It could also be a maddening experience unless one enjoys being a masochist of getting the thrill being squeezed or groped by perfect strangers. Or, it could even turn into a nightmare if he ever comes face to face with a grinning and foul-smelling monster that wouldn't hesitate to make a break the minute he has the opportunity! Comparing the pros and the cons of getting the kick out of such a pandemonium, I wonder if it was really worthwhile to travel that far and go through a wild goose chase in order to satisfy an inner urge to make an once-in-a-lifetime dream come true, regardless how crazy it could be!
We left Italy for Hungary early Monday morning under a pouring rain. It was already snowing heavily before we reached the Austrian border. Surprisingly, we found driving in a blizzard very difficult and dangerous. Without any previous experience and the necessary equipment on hand under such a condition, we nearly panicked when our car got stuck on the roadside and nobody cared to stop to bail us out. We tried all the tricks to free the car, but we seemed to be stuck for good. As a last ditch, we cleared with our hands and feet all the snow that had accumulated and put the car carpets under the front tires. What a relief when we finally managed to move the car! But some 20 miles further, however, our car skidded across the icy road. I drove moderately fast inside the tunnel and the car went out of control at the exit that I thought it would roll over. Fortunately, there wasn't much traffic and I succeeded to maneuver and stop it a few inches before it hit the guardrail at the edge of a precipice! I didn't know how much snow had fallen that day but I already thought of going back to Brussels directly if it didn't stop snowing. During the slow drive, I decided to continue because I supposed the road condition everywhere in Central Europe was the same. After all these commotions we made it to the Hungarian border before dark. There wasn't fresh snow on the road, but Budapest was about 200 miles from the border and somehow it was too late to proceed directly. So, we spent the night in a pension in Vesprem. We originally planned to stay in Budapest for a day or two to sightsee and shop around. But with a gray and freezing weather, it wasn't the best time to visit the city. It must have taken us more than an hour to get across the traffic lights on the main thoroughfares. I had to park briefly in front of a bank while Sara and Sophie rushed inside to change money. We searched for pensions in the suburbs, but in vain. I suppose they must have closed shop for the season. Much to our regret, we just had to leave Budapest after circling it for half a day, but planned to come back when the weather would be warmer and brighter.
It was like a homecoming when we got to Prague the next day. We seemed to have gotten lost our way again and went around the city for an hour searching for the pension where we last stayed. After a long tiring drive and continuous bickering on wrong directions, we had to contend ourselves with a two-night accommodation in a university residence where we stayed during our first visit in 1994. As the city transportation is cheap and frequent, we decided to leave the car behind. We were able to get to the places we wanted to see and the souvenirs to buy in one day. There wasn't the usual crowd on the famous Charles Bridge at this time of the year, but there were a considerable number of tourists in the old town. We hope to stay longer next time to be able to see other sights and shop at ease. Visiting three cities and driving across eight European countries in seven days proved to be so exhausting that a week wouldn't suffice to get a complete rest and be back to normal.
